


Closer

by lady_deathangel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pole Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_deathangel/pseuds/lady_deathangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac really had no idea what he was walking into but, in all fairness, neither did Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Teen Wolf Spring Fling over on tumblr. This is unbeta'ed and a bit late but it definitely got wordier than I originally anticipated. And this is actually the quick, non-AU interpretation of the prompt because what I was originally gonna write was going to be WAY too long (but maybe I'll get around to it eventually). Hope you enjoy!

Isaac really had no idea what he was walking into but, in all fairness, neither did Scott.

The fact that they were heading to Jungle for the night had made Isaac suspicious, but he’d expected the usual shit they got up to on spring break – hitting the club so Scott could drink virtually free, Stiles could see his friends, and Isaac could hover in the corner and laugh at Scott’s increasingly terrible attempts at dancing. Usually the girls would come, dressed up and shimmering with a liberal application of glitter that somehow ended up mostly on Stiles by the end of the night. Boyd wasn’t into the club scene and Danny said they all had a negative impact on his game, so the rule was to only invite Boyd out of politeness and pretend Danny was a stranger if they ran into him.

It was generally the kind of harmless fun that Isaac and the others reveled in. Now that they didn’t have to fight for their lives every few weeks even hanging out at Derek’s playing board games was its own kind of thrill. But there was something about piling into Stiles’ Jeep, blasting music and watching Allison talk Scott into a little eyeliner and pixie dust of his own, that felt _normal_. Isaac had friends and a social life and an actual college degree in his future when he’d spent a while thinking he wouldn’t even live to see twenty-one.

It was what he’d hoped to gain when he’d said yes to the bite in the first place.

Spontaneous as they sometimes were, certain things tended to follow a pattern so Isaac was surprised when Allison pulled up in front of the loft and honked her horn twice.

“That’s not Stiles,” Derek mused from behind the pages of his book.

He was like somebody’s disapproving homebody of a father sometimes. It was a wonder Isaac had ever thought him the height of cool.

“It’s creepy how you know that,” Isaac pointed out on the way to the door.

Derek glanced up, eyebrows raised, and said, “Wow. Are those jeans _Allison’s_?”

“Stop judging me,” he said, flicking a wave at Derek before closing the door behind him.

He moved quicker than the shitty elevator their landlord refused to repair – which was kind of their fault _anyway_ but that it was still fucking inconvenient – and hit the sidewalk at a jog. It was just Allison and Scott in the car when Isaac slid into the back.

“Just us?” he asked, a little bummed that Lydia and Stiles weren’t there.

Scott and Allison shared one of their obnoxious little knowing looks before Allison answered.

“They said to meet them there,” she said. “Lydia promised a surprise.”

“Oh, shit,” Isaac mumbled. “This isn’t gonna be like her last surprise is it? Because she’ll actually kill me if I puke on another pair of shoes.”

“You’re a werewolf,” Scott said with a laugh. “How was she supposed to know you couldn’t handle a little raw fish?”

“She could’ve _asked_.”

If she had, Isaac would’ve told her that just the thought of eating anything raw made him throw up a little in his mouth. Sometimes Derek would go on these long, descriptive monologues about catching wild animals and eating them right there in the preserve until Isaac had to go sit with his head inside the toilet for half an hour and hope nothing came up.

Derek thought it was hilarious because he was an asshole who’d learned how to be a big brother from actual wolves.

Then again, Isaac was surrounded by people who could occasionally be huge douchebags, himself included. He usually retaliated by blasting Rihanna until Derek threatened to take his claws to his own eardrums. And then he’d drink the last of the milk and remove the toilet paper from the bathroom in the middle of the night. It was silly, guerilla warfare but Isaac wasn’t above pettiness.

It had actually come as a surprise that Derek hadn’t mentioned Isaac’s little problem to the others. On the one hand, Isaac appreciated the show of solidarity. On the other, it would’ve saved him from the horrors of a surprise sushi dinner and Lydia’s subsequent wrath when Isaac threw up all over her.

Suffice it to say, Isaac was appropriately wary of Lydia’s surprises these days.

“Don’t worry,” Allison said. “I don’t think it’s gonna be that kind of surprise.”

There was something about her tone that made Isaac think she knew exactly what was going on. Scott turned to Isaac with a shrug, though, so if she had some idea of what was up she hadn’t shared with the class. That wasn’t too rare when it came to Allison, Lydia, and Stiles, though. Like the wolves in the pack, the three of them shared a bond that Isaac, Scott, Boyd, and Derek would never understand. If one of them swore the other to secrecy, they’d take it to the grave. Unless it was a matter of pack security, but Isaac was pretty sure they’d gotten past the point of keeping things from each other that might be the difference between life and death.

Isaac figured he and Scott were just along for the ride and knew that resistance would be futile. So Allison picked a radio station and they made the short drive to Jungle while singing along obnoxiously loud to Top 40 hits and speculating about how many sexual propositions Scott would have to turn down tonight. Isaac was estimating a modest seven but Allison was betting on at least fifteen.

“You know his shirt’s coming off eventually,” she said. “And once that happens . . . .”

She trailed off with a shrug and Isaac had to concede the point. There was really no competing with a shirtless Scott McCall unless your name was Derek Hale.

The club was packed when they finally got parked and made their way inside. More people than usual were always out for spring break, but this was ridiculous even for Beacon Hills’ only gay club. There were wall-to-wall people, all of them chatting and holding drinks and very clearly not dancing.

“What’s going on?”

Scott had to shout to be heard over the music and his voice carried to a couple next to them. They were older, dressed more casually than the usual crowd, and seemed to think Scott was the most adorable thing they’d ever seen. They cooed at him for a few seconds, extended their friendly grins to Allison and Isaac, and then handed over a small, glossy flier.

Isaac leaned over Scott’s shoulder to see the sillouette of a figure circling a pole and the words FIRST ANNUAL POLE COMPETITION at the bottom. They both whipped their heads around and, for the first time, Isaac noticed that a large section of the dance floor had been taped off and two shiny, chrome poles extended from the floor to the ceiling.

“This is the surprise?” Isaac asked, gesturing at the poles.

Allison made a “don’t ask me” face and turned away so they wouldn’t see her grin. If it hadn’t been for the dimples, it might’ve worked. Scott still looked confused and Isaac couldn’t blame him. Had Lydia put this on all by herself? It would be ridiculous to put it past her. After years of admiring her first from afar and then from up close and personal, there wasn’t much she _couldn’t_ do.

“This is weird, right?” Scott asked, quieter since he knew Isaac could hear him over the din. “It’s not just me?”

“It’s definitely something,” Isaac said.

They’d only been there for a few minutes before the music faded out and the spotlights over the makeshift stage went up. A small woman with a pixie haircut and endless curves encased in a little leather-and-lace number stepped out in front followed by a man in low-slung pants and a shirt in barely-there fabric who handed her one of the mics in his hands.

“Welcome to our first ever pole dancing competition!” the woman said, voice amplified so that it carried throughout the space.

A cheer rose in the crowd and she grinned at them all.

“Now, we here at Jungle like to put equality first so _everyone_ was invited to sign up.”

“And we mean everyone,” the man added. “So don’t worry if you’re strictly into dick because there are at least one or two men here who are about to make your night.”

That got an even bigger, louder response from the crowd and Scott and Isaac shared an amused look.

“But remember,” the woman said. “This isn’t about getting you off, even if I can’t guarantee that won’t happen.” She threw them all a wink and then added, “This is a dance competition, not a strip club.”

“That’s only on Fridays,” the man cut in.

Everyone laughed and then the woman lifted an arm and said, “Are you ready to get started?”

There was whistling and hooting and screaming. The woman announced the first dancer and she and her partner blended into the background while a tall woman in what looked like a shiny sports bra and a pair of underwear stepped out onto the stage.

She wasn’t that bad, actually. A little nervous and probably new to the pole dancing thing but Isaac didn’t experience the second-hand embarrassment that he was expecting. She finished with a little shimmy for the crowd and then flitted off to applause.

The next one up was a man about Derek’s age. He was taller, more muscular, and approached the pole with a style that combined masculinity and femininity with somewhat disastrous results. It probably wouldn’t have been that bad if it hadn’t been for the awkwardness of his feet. Isaac knew jack shit about dance, but he figured they at least should’ve been pointed. The dude’s shorts probably didn’t help, long and baggy as they were.

Still, he was a hit by virtue of being an attractive man working a pole and the crowd was pretty worked up when he wandered off.

There was one more – a non-descript performance by a non-descript woman – before a voice in the microphone announced that Lydia Martin was up next.

Isaac choked on his spit and he could hear Scott’s shocked noise next to him. They both turned to stare at Allison but she was too busy cheering to pay any attention.

For a second, Isaac was sure he’d heard wrong. And then a familiar figure made her way onto the stage and stood, straight-backed and head down, between the two poles. Isaac’s heart stuttered in his chest, old feelings resurfacing to mix with the usual aesthetic appreciation Lydia demanded. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and a simple, black bra-like top and black shorts showed off a body that was at once soft and visibly strong.

The music kicked in after a breath, just quick guitar riffs and piano chords for a handful of seconds. At the first beat of the drum, Lydia’s body curled as if she’d been shot, hands coming up to her bare stomach and fingers splaying over the skin as the vocals kicked in. And then, unlike the others, she truly _danced_. Her body told a story, swinging around and dipping and swaying. Her legs were an elegant line, her arms strong and fluid. She spun and jumped, every movement beautiful and eloquent, and that was before she even put a hand on a pole.

Once she took hold of one and did her first spin, one foot planted, the other folded up with her pointed toe against the inside of her knee, it was clear that amateur hour was over. She climbed the pole with ease and showed off the kind of strength and flexibility that Isaac sometimes forgot humans were capable of. It was amazing, the way she could her entire body parallel to the floor from several feet up by her arms, the sheer number of splits she did in every single combination possible and a few Isaac never would’ve come up with in his wildest imagination.

And the whole time she moved with such grace that it was impossible to look away.

She danced with defiance. The singer crooned about being unable to compare with a she-wolf but it was clear that, in this scenario, Lydia _was_ that wolf. She matched the energy of the music, almost terrifyingly fierce, until it finally ebbed. She slowed with it, arms hooked behind her back, body upside down, so that she could walk on air, descending right to the last note.

There was silence for the span of a heartbeat and then the room _erupted_. Scott and Allison were the loudest but Isaac was aware he’d added his own voice to the cheers. Lydia quirked a grin at them, flipped her hair over one shoulder, and then sauntered off.

“Holy shit, dude,” Scott said.

Isaac nodded, still shocked and wishing he could go back and watch the whole thing all over again. It came as no surprise that Lydia would be amazing at whatever she put her mind to, but that hadn’t just been great. That had been breathtaking.

It took almost a solid minute for everyone to calm down and Isaac felt terrible for everyone who had to follow that. It wasn’t even that they weren’t good, but Lydia’d won the hearts of the audience. It was going to be difficult for anyone to take them from her and the dancers that came after – another woman and two men, just couldn’t compete.

“They should all just go home,” Isaac said, watching a young woman do more basic walking spins than anything else. “No one’s gonna beat Lydia.”

With how loud the music was, no one else would’ve been able to hear Allison’s skeptical hum but Isaac and Scott both picked up on it.

“What?” Scott asked. “Allison, what?”

She just leaned up to peck him on the lips and said, “Show’s not over, yet.”

Isaac caught Scott’s eye and mouthed _cryptic much_. Scott shrugged.

The last dancer finished up to muted applause.

“Great job, Kelly!” he said. “Now, I know we’ve had a great time but all good things must come to an end. We’ve got one more performance for you, though, so everyone give it up for Stiles!”

“Oh, no fucking way,” Isaac muttered.

Scott snorted and then doubled over with laughter.

“Oh my God, did he make a bet with Lydia _again_? He always loses, how has he not figured that out?” Isaac asked.

Scott was practically wheezing and had to be hauled up by Allison who glared at him and Isaac both before turning to the stage and shouting, “Yeah, Stiles!” in a very pointed manner.

They were probably being the worst friends but seriously. Stiles was about to publically embarrass himself. Which, granted, wasn’t anything new but still. Isaac hated having to witness it and Scott was barely holding it together so the two of them managed a couple of hesitant claps before Stiles stepped out.

The first thought Isaac had was another variation of “Oh, no fucking _way_ ,” because Stiles was standing there in the tiniest pair of red shorts that Isaac had ever seen. A couple of the other male dancers had worn them, too, but somehow Stiles made them look obscene. Maybe it was the sheer length of his legs, smooth and toned and just. _What_.

The rest of Stiles’ body was something of a revelation. If Lydia had been gorgeous, Stiles was almost unreal. Isaac had seen him shirtless before, obviously, but Stiles never put his body on display. Unlike Derek and Scott, he only stripped down in front of others out of necessity. More often than not, he stayed layered up, actually, so this felt like seeing him naked.

It was a good look on him. Somewhere between all the fighting and mutual life-saving everyone had gotten up to in high school and now, Stiles had gotten muscular. He was still lean and those muscles weren’t big, but they were tight and visible beneath his skin, revealing the strength of his arms and back and legs.

And then there were hipbones and nipples and that was definitely eyeliner and a hint of gold dust along his eyelids.

No matter what happened when he danced, Isaac thought, the dude definitely looked the part.

When the music started, the simple beat familiar, Isaac wasn’t sure if he wanted to look away or watch this train wreck happen in real time.

“Oh, no,” Scott murmured, both of them watching while Stiles swayed back and forth, hips punctuating every thump of the bass.

For such a flaily spaz, Stiles was a good club dancer. Actually, he was kind of . . . sexy about it. Only when he was drunk, though, and once that happened it was all Isaac and Lydia could usually do to keep creepy dudes from trying to dry-hump him there on the dance floor. Stiles liked to say his hips didn’t lie and Isaac couldn’t say if that was accurate or not. Mostly, his hips said things like, “I could blow your mind if you let me” which was a tall order but Stiles lived to surprise.

This? Was no exception.

Trent Reznor’s voice came in low and suggestive and Stiles was off. Like Lydia, he didn’t go straight for the pole. Instead, he stalked downstage, hands sliding down his body in a way that got a loud response from the crowd and made Isaac feel incredibly hot all of a sudden. When Stiles dropped low and then circled his hips around and came up slow like Isaac had only ever seen in music videos, the audience lost it.

He took his time through the verse, adding in a few moves he had to have picked up from Lydia, but he practically leapt at the pole once the chorus hit. And if Isaac had been expecting for things to go downhill from there, he was wrong.

It was like Stiles didn’t have _bones_ , the way he twisted and extended and stretched. He pulled the same kind of advanced class shit as Lydia, but where hers had been a dance telling story and making a statement, Stiles’ was something entirely different. Not that it wasn’t making a statement. Isaac definitely heard him loud and clear, he just wasn’t quite sure what to do with all of . . . that.

That being Stiles, twisted around the pole, holding on by one arm and one leg with the other stretched up behind him. He finished the last chorus strong, pulling tricks that defied gravity and bending into shapes Isaac had originally thought male bodies were incapable of, human or not. And then he slid down, body an elegant curve against the pole, until his knees hit the floor. Isaac stared as Stiles fucking _gyrated_ there, upper body rolling with the beat until he started to crawl forward.

That shouldn’t have been so hot. Isaac was pretty sure thinking it was hot made him a bad person. But he really couldn’t help himself. Stiles reached out toward the audience with one hand on the beat, pulled it back into his body, and then rose and bent backward at an angle that made Isaac’s on back pulse with a phantom ache. The music cut out and the cheers of the crowd, which had already been ridiculous before, rose to a volume that made Isaac wince.

For his part, he was too shocked to even clap. Next to him, Scott seemed paralyzed.

Surprise indeed.

The same woman and man from before stepped forward to say it would be a bit before the results came in and then the speakers started blaring a remix of something Isaac only vaguely recognized. People started dancing and Isaac took that as his cue to find an empty corner.

Allison and Scott followed and the three of them found a calm, empty patch of floor where they could stand and process what they’d just seen.

“What. The. Fuck?” Isaac eventually demanded.

Scott shook his head, eyes wide, and Allison had gone from looking smugly in the know to flabbergasted. It would’ve been hilarious if Isaac wasn’t suddenly fighting off a pants-busting crush on a kid he’d known since high school.

“Why am I not surprised to see you losers holding up a wall?” a voice chided a few minutes later.

They looked over to see Lydia and Stiles approaching. They were dressed in street clothes, now, Lydia in a sleek dress and Stiles back to his staple of jeans and a t-shirt. His eyes were still made up, though, and the effect was doing really weird things to Isaac’s insides.

“I think we broke them, Stiles,” Lydia said when no one answered.

“Aw,” Stiles said, grinning at Scott and Allison and avoiding Isaac’s gaze altogether. “Were we too hot for you to handle? Did we make you reevaluate your sexuality a little?”

“Maybe if you weren’t like a brother,” Scott said easily enough.

Allison beamed and said, “Definitely.”

“And Isaac’s bi so we can’t ask him,” Lydia said with a sigh.

Stiles finally looked at him, eyes a little wary in the dark. Isaac just stared back and tried not to picture him dancing. It didn’t really work.

“Isaac’s still rebooting,” Stiles said with a laugh. “Jeez, Lydia, you really did break him.”

She leveled Stiles with an unimpressed stare and said, “God, you’re dense, Stilinski.”

Then she clapped her hands together and gestured at the bar.

“We’ve earned so many free drinks so I say we cash in,” she said before hooking one arm through Stiles’ and the other through Isaac’s.

The crowd parted easily enough for them but it was slow-going since everyone seemed to want to stop them to offer congratulations or ask for a dance. Lydia brushed them all off with a charming grin and they got to the bar where there were already two shots laid out for Lydia and Stiles on the house.

Stiles accepted his happily and Isaac watched as he clinked the small glass against Lydia’s, tapped it against the bar, and then knocked the whole thing back. It meant he had to expose his neck to the harsh lights at the bar and Isaac caught himself staring before he managed to tear his eyes away.

Lydia was smirking at him when he did, her own shot glass also empty.

“If you thought that was something,” she said, leaning up to whisper into Isaac’s ear, “You should see what he can do when he takes his clothes off.”

Isaac was left sputtering after her while she dragged Stiles out onto the dance floor. Scott and Allison pulled up next to him, took one look at his face, and snorted in unison.

“I don’t even want to know, do I?” Scott said.

Considering Isaac was currently having pornographic thoughts about his best friend? Yeah, probably not.

They hung back at the bar for a while before Scott finally talked Allison into dancing with him. They made their way out to Stiles and Lydia who beamed at them and pulled them in to form a tight circle. A second later, Stiles lifted his head and caught Isaac’s gaze.

Isaac didn’t dance, that was a well-known fact. But he kind of had a feeling from the way a smile spread slow and suggestive across Stiles’ face that it wasn’t gonna hurt his chances. Stiles did a little shimmy in his direction and Isaac rolled his eyes but leaned back against the bar and gestured at Stiles to go on.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip and this time when he danced, it was just for Isaac.

**Author's Note:**

> Lydia dances to [She Wolf (Falling To Pieces)](http://youtu.be/PVzljDmoPVs) by David Guetta ft. Sia and Stiles dances to (of course) [Closer](http://youtu.be/oauxZ11ZDIs) by Nine Inch Nails which is obviously where I got the title. I watched a ton of videos for inspiration but [Steven Retchless](http://www.youtube.com/user/StevenRetchless?feature=watch) was my primary source. He's amazing! Check out his videos on youtube because YES.


End file.
